tighter as we start down the impromptu red carpet leading into the hotel banquet hall.
It’s not a very far walk, but it seems to take forever as Brandon has to stop every few steps to pose for the camera. There are people everywhere and the camera flashes are relentless. I feel like I have vertigo as I scan the scene all around me. It seems dizzying.
A reporter latches onto Brandon, and I take a few steps back to let him answer the questions. With all the background noise and chatter, I only hear snippets of their conversation, but it all seems to be revolving around his next film project. Brandon starts talking with his hands and drops mine in the process.
“Ms. McAdams?”
I turn at my name and come face to face with a woman I have never seen before. She is dressed in a black pantsuit and I immediately assume she is some sort of publicist or manager.
“Yes?” I reply.
“My name is Lindsey Perkins. I’m with Mr. Hart’s publicity firm. Please come with me,” she directs and grabs for my arm.
I turn to look back at Brandon, a moment of panic overtaking me at the thought of leaving him. “Where are we going?” I ask.
“I’m just going to take you inside. Brandon will be along shortly. He has a few interviews lined up to take care of first.”
I start to protest, but she holds my arm firmly, not letting me twist away. Alarm bells are still going off in my head, but I nod slightly and let her lead me towards the front entrance. I follow her to the reception hall where the event is being hosted. I am surprised at how big the room is, as I survey the sea of tables. There are quite a few people already seated and others are scattered in little pockets around the room.
Lindsey conveniently excuses herself as soon as she gets me inside and leaves me standing alone in the entryway of the hall. I shuffle off to the side to keep out of the way of the other people who are coming in behind me.
I look around and start debating whether or not I should just try to find my seat and wait for Brandon to get here. As I consider the options, I feel a tap on my shoulder. I expect to see Lindsey back from her errand, but it’s not her. It’s a petite blonde in a formal dress.
“Are you Charity McAdams?” she asks, her eyes wide and expectant.
“Uh, yes,” I stutter.
“Oh my God! You’re just the person I was looking for!”
“Are you on Brandon’s publicity team too?” I ask.
She throws her head back and laughs. “Oh, no, no. I’m Jessica Patrice. I’m a journalist.”
My eyebrow rises suspiciously. If there is one thing I’ve learned from my short time in Hollywood, it’s that I don’t like, or trust, these so called journalists.
“Ever since I saw the pictures of you and Brandon, I’ve wanted to talk to you and get your perspective on what it’s like to date one of the hottest new guys in Hollywood!” She pulls out her phone and quickly taps the screen. “You don’t mind, do you?”
I don’t know what to say. I just want to get away from her but I know there isn’t really anywhere to go.
“So you and Brandon dated in high school?” she asks.
“Umm, yes, and college,” I answer hesitantly.
“Did he always want to be an actor?”
I nod as I silently map out an escape route.
Jessica is still rambling on and on, asking everything and I stop listening, nodding occasionally.
“Is it true that he dumped you at the altar so he could date Vanessa Blair?” Jessica blurts out.
“What?” Her question snaps me back to attention.
She looks confused for a minute. “That’s why you had that fight with her, a couple of months back. She found out you two were sneaking around. Care to comment on that?”
“Seriously? Is that how this works? You just throw out the most outrageous question you can think of and hope you’ll get some dirt? Or at the very least, I’ll throw a fit and you’ll get a sound bite out of the deal? That’s just pathetic.” I continue, not even trying to control
It’s not a very far walk, but it seems to take forever as Brandon has to stop every few steps to pose for the camera. There are people everywhere and the camera flashes are relentless. I feel like I have vertigo as I scan the scene all around me. It seems dizzying.
A reporter latches onto Brandon, and I take a few steps back to let him answer the questions. With all the background noise and chatter, I only hear snippets of their conversation, but it all seems to be revolving around his next film project. Brandon starts talking with his hands and drops mine in the process.
“Ms. McAdams?”
I turn at my name and come face to face with a woman I have never seen before. She is dressed in a black pantsuit and I immediately assume she is some sort of publicist or manager.
“Yes?” I reply.
“My name is Lindsey Perkins. I’m with Mr. Hart’s publicity firm. Please come with me,” she directs and grabs for my arm.
I turn to look back at Brandon, a moment of panic overtaking me at the thought of leaving him. “Where are we going?” I ask.
“I’m just going to take you inside. Brandon will be along shortly. He has a few interviews lined up to take care of first.”
I start to protest, but she holds my arm firmly, not letting me twist away. Alarm bells are still going off in my head, but I nod slightly and let her lead me towards the front entrance. I follow her to the reception hall where the event is being hosted. I am surprised at how big the room is, as I survey the sea of tables. There are quite a few people already seated and others are scattered in little pockets around the room.
Lindsey conveniently excuses herself as soon as she gets me inside and leaves me standing alone in the entryway of the hall. I shuffle off to the side to keep out of the way of the other people who are coming in behind me.
I look around and start debating whether or not I should just try to find my seat and wait for Brandon to get here. As I consider the options, I feel a tap on my shoulder. I expect to see Lindsey back from her errand, but it’s not her. It’s a petite blonde in a formal dress.
“Are you Charity McAdams?” she asks, her eyes wide and expectant.
“Uh, yes,” I stutter.
“Oh my God! You’re just the person I was looking for!”
“Are you on Brandon’s publicity team too?” I ask.
She throws her head back and laughs. “Oh, no, no. I’m Jessica Patrice. I’m a journalist.”
My eyebrow rises suspiciously. If there is one thing I’ve learned from my short time in Hollywood, it’s that I don’t like, or trust, these so called journalists.
“Ever since I saw the pictures of you and Brandon, I’ve wanted to talk to you and get your perspective on what it’s like to date one of the hottest new guys in Hollywood!” She pulls out her phone and quickly taps the screen. “You don’t mind, do you?”
I don’t know what to say. I just want to get away from her but I know there isn’t really anywhere to go.
“So you and Brandon dated in high school?” she asks.
“Umm, yes, and college,” I answer hesitantly.
“Did he always want to be an actor?”
I nod as I silently map out an escape route.
Jessica is still rambling on and on, asking everything and I stop listening, nodding occasionally.
“Is it true that he dumped you at the altar so he could date Vanessa Blair?” Jessica blurts out.
“What?” Her question snaps me back to attention.
She looks confused for a minute. “That’s why you had that fight with her, a couple of months back. She found out you two were sneaking around. Care to comment on that?”
“Seriously? Is that how this works? You just throw out the most outrageous question you can think of and hope you’ll get some dirt? Or at the very least, I’ll throw a fit and you’ll get a sound bite out of the deal? That’s just pathetic.” I continue, not even trying to control
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